


ara ma'athlan vhenas

by thebonerpit



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Canon-Typical Violence, Dirty Talk, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pet Names, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24306919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebonerpit/pseuds/thebonerpit
Summary: Some vignettes on the lives of MCU characters in the Dragon Age universe, centered around the story of an orphaned elf (Peter) and the Grey Warden who takes him under his wing (Tony).
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 9
Kudos: 40





	ara ma'athlan vhenas

**Author's Note:**

> Some liberties were taken with Dragon Age canon/lore. You do not need to be familiar with DA to understand this story! Imagining it as a fairly typical fantasy setting is probably enough, but there are definitely more specific details thrown in for fans of the series. Translations are in the Notes at the bottom of this work, and if there is anything you need more clarification on please feel free to ask... seriously... I have an entire world built up in my head for this and I WILL talk about it for hours if you let me.

“Kid, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

It was the third time Tony had tried to reach out to him. The boy was curled up in a corner, shaking, and he was making a low whining noise like an injured animal. It was breaking Tony’s heart but he didn’t want to startle him by getting too close, so he tried once more.

“Hey, it’s just me, ok? No one else is here. You’re safe. Come on, just tell me what happened and I can go fetch the guards—”

“No!”

The kid practically screamed it out, twisting around so quickly it made Tony jump a little. His face was tear-streaked and his eyes were wide with panic. He was older than Tony assumed from his small frame, but with elves it was always so difficult to tell.

“No, please, don’t call the guards, please, please, no, I—”

“Shhhh, it’s alright, settle down, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” Tony said, palms out in supplication. “I just want to help. Can you tell me what happened here?”

Tony had been on his way to the tavern to join his travel companions when he heard a commotion down a narrow street. It was right on the edge of the Alienage and he tried to avoid that area at all costs but someone sounded like they were in pain, so he drew his sword and crept closer to investigate. The first body he came across was a male elf, stabbed through the chest and left in the street in front of a dilapidated home. Tony stepped around him gingerly and entered the house to see a female elf in a similar state just inside the door. Her skirt was rucked up around her waist and Tony felt a little sick to his stomach. He fixed her clothing, trying not to get blood on his gloves, and closed her terrified eyes with one hand.

The whimpering was coming from the kitchen, and Tony followed the noise to where he found the boy, covered in blood and distraught.

“It’s… they’re… they’re dead,” the boy said in between shuddering breaths.

“Your parents?”

The boy shook his head and fresh tears sprung from his eyes.

“My aunt and uncle, ser. My parents…” He stopped to wipe his eyes and take one more deep breath. “They were killed when I was ten.”

“Andraste’s mercy,” Tony whispered, his heart already aching for this kid.

“It was the guards,” he said, so softly Tony barely heard him. “They come around here sometimes, drunk… usually the brothel gets the worst of it. My uncle just happened to be coming home right as they walked by and…”

“Alright, you don’t have to go on,” Tony said. He moved a little closer and kneeled on the floor in front of the boy. “What’s your name?”

“Peter,” said the elf. “Wh-who are you?”

“My name is Tony Stark. I’m a Grey Warden.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Fury wouldn’t let Tony bring him along with their group if he wasn’t conscripted, and while he was the Warden Commander, Tony didn’t have to agree with every stupid decision he made.

“We aren’t in a Blight, in case you didn’t notice, or is your one good eye failing you too?”

Fury scowled. “Oh you’re hilarious. But in case YOU didn’t notice, we’re heading into the Deep Roads. All the kid’s going to be is darkspawn bait if he isn’t one of us.”

“Like that makes a difference,” Tony scoffed. Being able to sense darkspawn didn’t help much if they were already on top of you.

“We’re doing it, or we’re leaving him here. That’s final.”

“I—um, ser, I’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t leave me.”

Peter had crept up on their conversation, his light feet making his approach near silent. Tony jumped slightly when he spoke.

“Kid, listen… you’ll be much better off here than down in the tunnels. Trust me.”

“But… I want to stay with you.” Peter’s chin wobbled and Tony felt his resolve crumbling almost immediately.

“Pete, there’s no guarantee with this ritual. If the blood doesn’t take… you could die.”

“I’m as good as dead here, too, ser,” he said, looking over his shoulder to the town not so far in the distance. He had no family left, and Tony was certain his home would already be taken over by bandits or scavengers. “I’ve heard stories of the Wardens. They’re noble warriors, protectors of Thedas! If I’m going to die… I’d rather do it in service of them than starving to death in the street.”

Tony really couldn’t argue with that, even if it made his stomach roil.

“We have two more vials of darkspawn blood left,” Fury said, digging in the pouch under his long coat. “We better make this quick.”

Tony nearly stopped Peter when he raised the goblet to his lips. Their eyes met and his heart lurched, the desire to protect him almost overwhelming. But Peter drank, and Tony was there to cradle his head gently when he collapsed to the ground. Fury gave him a look but he ignored it, and as Peter slowly regained consciousness, now a full-blooded Grey Warden, Tony was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes.

He had nightmares, like most do after they ingest the darkspawn blood. In their small tent Tony could hear him whimpering in a mix of common and Elvish, and he was shivering so much he was shaking the blankets right off himself. Tony shifted over slightly, close enough to gently wrap one arm around Peter’s small frame.

“Shh,” he whispered, “it’s just a dream.”

Peter whined a little more but seemed to settle, his breath evening out as Tony’s hand rose and fell against his narrow chest.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The life of a Grey Warden wasn’t glamorous. Long, hard days on the road between dreary towns wore on Tony, and he could see it starting to affect Peter too. He also noticed the boy brighten when Rogers mentioned they were getting close to Orlais.

“We won’t go in the city but there’s a small jail on the outskirts that Fury flagged for potential recruits.”

Peter’s face fell again, and he tried to hide his disappointment by cooing to his horse in Elvish. Tony swallowed thickly.

“Why don’t we make a longer stop? Void, we could all use a break… and a bath. Banner smells like he’s been rolling in darkspawn vitriol and horse manure.”

Banner, a Qunari with an absolutely confounding temperament, growled and knocked Tony’s shoulder as he rode past on his massive steed.

“We should really keep going if we want to make it to Weisshaupt on time…”

“Come on, Rogers, we deserve it. I’ll cover the rooms.”

It was no secret that Tony came from money. Nevarran royalty, some said. How he ended up as a Grey Warden was a mystery to most (except Nat, who seemed to know everything about everyone) and while he kept everyone fed and relatively warm he preferred not to make his wealth well known. It seemed all it took was one hopeful look from an orphaned elf to change his mind.

“Oh I’m definitely in, then,” Clint said.

“I heard they all wear masks there,” Peter piped up, urging his horse on to ride beside Tony, “and even the streets are made of white marble!”

“That may be a bit of an exaggeration,” Tony said, “but if you can get past the snooty nobles, politics, and horrendous amounts of perfume… it’s quite a spectacle.”

It was, and it was all completely worth it to see Peter’s face when they rode through the gates. He had been concerned about how he would be treated as an elf there, but Tony reassured him he was a Grey Warden first, and that commanded at least a small amount of respect. Even Banner’s fearsome persona was accepted as long as his wore his Grey Warden crest. Peter was wide-eyed, taking in everything he possibly could, and Tony was so distracted he almost rode his horse into a post. Thor snickered behind him which Tony pointedly ignored.

Since he was feeling particularly generous, and Orlais was a safe enough city that they didn’t have to wear their armour all the time, Tony bought everyone new sets of clothing. He was resplendent in a red highever weave tunic, while Nat and Clint were more subdued in wrapped rogue’s vestments of samite. Steve at first refused his gift of a navy blue ring velvet tunic but Tony caught him rubbing at the soft material throughout the night. Banner barely wore clothing as it was so Tony left him to his own devices, but did manage to procure a rather potent corruption rune to attach to his axe. Thor kept his Avvar body paint but added new trousers made of dark, warm bear hide. And Peter… he may have gone a little overboard with Peter.

Everything had been tailored to within an inch of its life. The deep blue august ram leather chestpiece was made to complement his slim hips, and the simple cotton trousers would cling to every muscle in his legs. The undershirt matched Tony’s highever weave. The most audacious part, though, were the boots. Knee-high phoenix scale leather, bright red, as soft as they were warm. Peter gasped when he saw them.

“Tony, these… they’re too much,” he whispered, running his fingers along the edge of a buckle.

“Nonsense. We need everyone at their best, right? I know the Dalish like to run around barefoot but you were raised in a city and you’ve been wearing those awful slippers for Maker knows how long… anyway. You needed an upgrade.”

Peter clung to the fabric and leather in his hands, looking up at Tony with eyes brimming with tears. Suddenly he leapt at him, enveloping him in a tight hug, and Tony could smell the perfumed soap in his hair from his bath.

“Thank you,” he whispered against Tony’s neck, causing goosebumps to break out on what felt like every inch of his skin.

That wasn’t even the worst part. The worst was when Peter walked into the dining hall in his new outfit and Tony nearly choked on his wine. He looked absolutely stunning, and it was obvious Tony wasn’t the only one who thought so. Nobles were whispering to each other as he walked past and even Nat looked him up and down appreciatively.

“Looking good, Peter,” Clint said, winking clumsily. Peter laughed, ducking his head as he took his seat beside Tony. He looked up at him, biting his lip as he fiddled with the edge of his collar.

“Wh-what do you think, ser? Does it fit alright?”

“Fits perfect, kid,” Tony rasped out before clearing his throat and pointedly looking away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The gust of air from the arrow that whipped past his head ruffled Tony’s hair, and he turned to raise his eyebrows at the direction it came from. Peter was up on a hill, firing down into the crowd of darkspawn, picking them off with military precision.

“Hey kid, if I wanted a haircut I would have asked Nat to shear me with those daggers of hers before we left!”

Peter’s laugh echoed across the battlefield as he leapt backwards, firing a spread of three arrows as he went. Tony chuckled, shaking his head, and turned just in time to block a sword swinging down at him with two crossed swords of his own. He was trained with sword and shield but too many times found himself abandoning the shield in favour of more risky maneuvers with his sword which naturally infuriated his trainer (and his parents). Once he discovered the appeal of wielding two short swords, the shield was left in his cellar to rust. Unlike Rogers, that maniac, who flung his all over the battlefield and was somehow incredibly effective with it. Tony hated him a little.

Thor crashed down beside him, his massive warhammer crackling with a lightning rune.

“Peter will be fine, you know,” he said casually as he swung the hammer in a wide arc, knocking out two darkspawn who had dared to approach them.

“What are you on about?”

Thor rumbled out a laugh. “You can’t stop looking at him. Either you’re watching to ensure he isn’t harmed, or—”

“Oh, right, yeah. Definitely the first one. You don’t need to keep talking.”

Thor chuckled again before bolting off to help Nat and Clint who were beginning to get overwhelmed. Clint was a fine archer, one of the best Tony had ever seen, but he didn’t have the grace that Peter had. Clint could hit a target miles away, but he couldn’t swing from a tree into a double somersault on to Banner’s shoulders and take out five targets while doing it. Without breaking a sweat, mind you. Did elves sweat? Tony would have to investigate that.

“Maker, even my own thoughts are sabotaging me,” he grumbled.

An ear-splitting bellow in Qunlat startled him in enough time to dash out of the way as Banner barreled past him and into a crowd of darkspawn, flinging them into the air.

“Nice one, big guy!” Peter crowed as he picked off the stragglers.

At first Tony had felt incredibly guilty. It consumed him, at times, that he brought this innocent boy into this life of war and death. But Peter… Peter took to it like it was second nature to him. He was not only an excellent fighter, but he added some much-needed joy to their little band of Grey Wardens. Tony had been fighting alongside some of them for years now but it wasn’t until Peter joined that he ever heard anyone laugh during battle. It was jarring at first, but honestly? In a world with so much sadness, he was just what everyone needed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They were overwhelmed. It seemed as though nothing could stem the flow of the darkspawn pouring out of a sinkhole that had suddenly opened up in the middle of a farmer’s field, but the Wardens and a handful of poorly equipped town guards were the only ones in the vicinity.

“Fall back!” Rogers yelled, bashing in the skull of a hurlock with his shield. “We can try to bottleneck them at the town gates.”

“And risk all the people inside?” Peter was not pleased with this development and frankly neither was Tony but they didn’t have much choice. Also, it was absolutely freezing out here and when did it get so cold anyway? Tony watched his breath plume in front of him for a moment, mesmerized, before he was shoved out of the way by Thor as massive icicles rose up out of the ground, blocking the darkspawn’s advance.

He could hear Nat swearing in Antivan as she tried to avoid the icy runes now littering the ground.

“Please don’t tell me we have an Emissary to deal with. I really hate those things,” she said as a rune exploded to her left, encasing a genlock in ice.

“Uh, looks like whatever this is? It’s on our side.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” said a voice that seemed to be emanating from a swirling mass of ice and snow. The storm dissipated to reveal a tall, slender elf holding a staff. He looked incredibly put-upon to be there.

“Loki?” Thor’s voice was trembling as he approached the elf, and he reached out to touch him like he expected him to be a phantom that would disappear on contact. But he didn’t. And Thor made some sort of garbled sob and threw his arms around the elf, hugging him so tightly Tony winced in sympathy.

“Get off me, you ridiculous oaf!” Loki snapped as he tried to squirm away, but Thor was not having it.

“Friends! This is Loki, my brother! He’s here to help us!”

“Uh…”

“Adopted brother,” Thor clarified before Tony could continue.

“He’s a mage,” Steve said, eyeing him warily.

“He’s an elf!” Peter cried, creeping in closer to get a better look.

“He’s trying to close this blasted hole in the ground if you’ll stop prattling on and let him!”

Thor finally released Loki who immediately brandished his staff at the sinkhole and filled it with a thick layer of ice, effectively blocking the entrance… at least until the sun came out.

“See? How long have you idiots been at this? A group of Grey Wardens and not one mage amongst you? Honestly… saviours of Thedas,” he sniffed, rolling his eyes.

“He’s… he’s an apostate!” A voice called out from the crowd, one of the guards from the town. Loki whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes, his staff flashing with blue energy. “We need to alert the Templars, he—”

“You will do no such thing!” Thor’s voice was thunderous and his expression matched it perfectly. Loki smirked at the quivering guard.

“Uh yeah, he kind of saved our asses here, I don’t think we need to be so hasty,” Tony said.

“He’s not welcome here,” another guard hissed, hiding behind his shield as he eyed Thor warily.

“Well good, because I’m not staying,” Loki snapped back.

“No. He’s coming with us,” Thor said.

Everyone, including Loki, turned to stare at Thor with matching incredulous expressions.

“Do we get to vote on this, or…?” Nat asked.

“If you think I’m drinking darkspawn blood you’re even more stupid than I thought,” Loki said.

“I mean, it’s kind of an essential part of this whole… thing,” Tony said, wiggling his fingers vaguely.

“It doesn’t have to be. My magic allows me to hide from the darkspawn if I so choose.”

Tony couldn’t deny having a mage along would be hugely beneficial for them. There were countless times where even some rudimentary healing magic would have been useful, and Loki seemed incredibly skilled. However…

“And you just so happened to appear out of nowhere, right in front of your long-lost brother, and offer to help us?”

Loki shrugged. “It’s either that or expend the rest of my mana dealing with these guards, and honestly, I really am not in the mood.”

“Loki has been on his spirit pilgrimage,” Thor said, as if that explained everything. “The Avvar see mages in a much different light than the rest of you. He needed time away from the Hold to understand the connection to his spirit, to learn from it, and now… now he has returned!”

Steve’s face darkened even more at the mention of spirits. He’d never trusted magic, or mages, as long as Tony had known him. He was old-fashioned like that.

“I think that sounds beautiful,” Peter said quietly. It wasn’t loud enough for everyone to hear but Loki certainly noticed and offered him the barest hint of a genuine smile, which was somehow enough for Tony.

“Trial run,” he said. “You’re Thor’s problem if something goes wrong. And try not to set anyone’s hair on fire.”

Loki smirked at the thought but his coy expression turned comical as it was once again crushed into a tight embrace against Thor’s massive chest.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tony wasn’t sure he had ever seen a drunk elf before. He must have, in some far-flung tavern or camp where he stopped in to lay his head, but he didn’t take any particular notice. But now he couldn’t look away.

Peter’s ears were flushed pink at their tips, matching his cheeks and button nose. His huge brown eyes were a little glassy but he was still alert and coherent, singing along with Thor’s ridiculous Avvar drinking song. He barely knew the words but raised his mug of ale with every cheer, slopping it over the side and down his slender wrist. He glanced over at Tony and grinned even wider, beckoning him over. Tony just smirked and shook his head, happy in his quiet little corner with his glass of West Hill brandy. Peter was obviously not, however, and pouted before extricating himself from one of Thor’s beefy arms and wobbling over to Tony.

“Come sing with us!”

“Oh, absolutely not. You would hate it. I would get us all kicked out of this fine establishment. I sound like a druffalo in heat.”

Peter threw his head back to laugh and nearly lost his balance before Tony grabbed him around his slim waist. Peter gasped and Tony thought he might have hurt him until he saw the dark, lusty look in Peter’s eyes. He really should let him go, push him gently back to the group. He really shouldn’t urge him closer until he’s practically in his lap. And he _definitely_ shouldn’t grab one long-fingered hand and press a searing kiss against his wrist in a cheap, drunken imitation of chivalry. That brandy must have gone right to his head.

“Tony… s-ser,” Peter whispered, licking his lips as he leaned in so their noses were almost touching. He was now completely on top of Tony, his hips already making abortive little movements to try to get some friction. No one had noticed, but they would soon.

“We can’t… Peter… stop, we can’t…”

“Please,” he begged, fingers already tugging at the laces of Tony’s chest plate.

“Not here,” he hissed, batting his hand away gently. Peter paused for a moment before biting his lip and looking up at Tony through those thick lashes.

“Somewhere else, then?”

Tony groaned, and mustered enough willpower to remove Peter from his lap.

“Peter!” Thor called from across the room, flailing yet another ale around as he peered into the dark corner where Tony was sitting. “We need you for this one!”

“Go, kid,” Tony said softly, nudging him away as Thor started up the next ballad. Peter took a few steps before furrowing his brow and then lunging forward, capturing Tony’s mouth in a messy, biting kiss. Tony gasped in surprise and Peter used the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, groaning as he licked into his mouth like he was trying to taste the brandy he had been drinking. He pulled away and nipped at Tony’s plush bottom lip.

“Not a kid. When are you going to realize that?”

He pushed off Tony’s chest and headed back over to the group and Tony could only sit there dumbfounded, watching the sway of his hips as he walked away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They lost Clint on a warm Bloomingtide day. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and Clint was dead. It didn’t make any sense.

Nat wouldn’t leave his side, gripping his hand so tightly hers turned as white as his had become. Banner let out a mournful bellow and lumbered off. Qunari weren’t so good with emotions, Tony guessed.

“We should find somewhere to bury him,” Tony said quietly.

“Maker, Tony, give her some time,” Steve hissed back.

“Steve, you know there are more coming. We can’t linger here.”

Steve turned to reason with him, touched him on the arm, but Tony jerked away and stalked off to the edge of the thick forest. He leaned wearily against a tree, noticing for the first time since the battle had begun how heavy his bloodstone armour was. He wanted to strip it off, throw it in the blighted river, let it sink to the bottom and never have to put it on again. He watched as Thor appeared from the woods, panting, and informed the rest of them that he followed the stragglers back to their hidden Deep Roads entrance. Tony steeled himself to argue against Rogers’ inevitable suggestion that they follow them when he heard a soft sniffle from the branch above him and a barely audible whisper.

“ _Falon’Din enasal enaste_.”

“Hey Pete,” he said softly. “Wanna come down so an old man doesn’t throw his neck out looking up at you?”

There was a moment of silence before Peter landed beside him, his feet making no noise at all on the carpet of pine needles. His eyes were swollen and rimmed with red but it didn’t seem like he was actively crying.

“You alright?”

  
“No. No, Tony, I’m not alright!”

Tony jerked back, surprised by the anger coming out of him.

“Clint’s dead. My… my friend is dead.”

“Part of the job description, kid,” Tony said. It was cold and he knew it but he couldn’t… he just couldn’t. Peter snorted with disgust.

“Yeah. Right. Just make another one, huh? Should we stop in the next town, see if we can find any other sad orphaned elves to take on?”

Tony visibly flinched at that. “You know that’s not—”

“Do I? Do I know? We’re all replaceable to you.”

“Peter, that’s not true.”

“Then why are you acting like this?!”

“Because—Maker, kid, because I’m hurting so much it feels like my insides are about to fall out, ok? And the only thing keeping them in there is this.” He knocked on his chestplate.

Peter sniffed and wiped at a fat tear that had escaped and rolled down his cheek. He looked at Tony, contemplative, sad almost, and Tony had to look away. He’d spent almost his entire life pushing away anyone who showed him the smallest bit of affection and yet for some reason he’d let this kid inside, let him burrow in and nest in his heart, and he could barely take it. Maker, if it had been Peter who took that hurlock’s arrow instead of Clint…

“Go on back to the others. Let me brood in peace, ok?”

But Peter shuffled closer to him instead.

“You don’t have to wear your armour all the time, Tony,” Peter said quietly. He moved closer again, close enough to slowly take Tony’s hand, and squeezed it gently as they stood in silence together.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was never Tony’s intent to “replace” Clint. He couldn’t be replaced. Especially not for people like Nat or Peter. They had Loki now, and were a strong force to contend with, but they were still missing something. Clint was especially proficient at locks and disarming traps, and while Nat could manage, it wasn’t her specialty. Without letting the others know, Tony had been keeping an eye out for anyone with those skills as they passed through various town and settlements but so far no one was nearly good enough. It was only when they ended up in Cumberland that Tony nearly kicked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

They had barely settled down to supper at the small tavern when Tony stood abruptly and complained that the mystery stew was giving him a stomach ache. He could feel Peter’s eyes on him as he climbed the stairs to their rooms, where he immediately hopped out the window and into the streets. It had been eight years since he stumbled through this town in a drunken stupor but he was sure he could remember… ah-ha.

A blacksmith’s shop, nestled in between two much larger buildings. The door was open to let the cool night air inside, so Tony approached quietly and poked his head in.

“If you’re planning to rob me, I wouldn’t suggest it. There’s a claw trap currently dangling over your head that I can release in an instant and I’ve been _really_ curious to see if I could decapitate someone with one of those.”

The voice came from the other side of a small, sizzling forge. Tony could barely make out a silhouette against the bright light from the coals but he knew… he knew it was him.

“Finally upgraded from a potato attached to a string, hm? Good work. I expected nothing less from you, Harley.”

A hammer fell against an anvil with a loud clang.

“Who are you, and how in the Void do you know my…”

As he stepped out of the shadows, Tony smiled. Dark blonde hair swirled around his head like a halo under which bright blue eyes stared out at him with something akin to disbelief. Maker, he had grown so much. Really, Tony shouldn’t have been surprised, but… that little kid who dragged his sorry ass inside and out of the freezing snow, the kid who wouldn’t stop poking and prodding at Tony’s armour, the kid who got inside his head and made him step up and do something with his life… that kid wasn’t a kid anymore.

“Tony?”

Tony stretched his arms out and smirked. “Pretty sure that’s still my name.”

He didn’t know what reaction he expected, but having Harley basically throw himself into his arms for a hug was not at the top of his list. He let out a small huff as the force of Harley’s embrace jostled him back a few steps, and then an indignant ‘hey!’ as Harley started punching one of his arms.

“You left! You total dickhead, you left me here!!”

“Uh, was kind of having a bit of a mid-life crisis at the time if you didn’t notice, y’know, with me being drunk in a gutter when you found me?”

Harley rolled his eyes and punched Tony again, harder this time.

“You could’ve sent me a letter. Something. Anything so I knew you were ok at least!”

“Alright, enough with the punching! And… yes, you’re right, I could have. I _should_ have. I’m sorry.”

The shock of hearing Tony apologize made Harley pause, one hand still formed in a fist.

“And,” Tony started, rubbing at his aching bicep, “now I need a favour. So. Sorry for that, too.”

“What kind of favour?” Harley asked, peering at him intently. Tony could tell he was still upset, perhaps a little bit overwhelmed, but obviously he still possessed that insatiable curiosity he had as a kid.

“Well…”

Tony explained everything, and Harley listened, but when he asked him to join his merry little band of Wardens, Harley hesitated.

“I can’t leave the shop, Tony,” he said plainly. “I spent my entire life building it.”

“What about your sister? You said she’s good…”

“She’s really good,” Harley said with a fond smile. “Can craft a better sword than me, that’s for sure. But don’t ever tell her I said that.”

“Listen” Tony said, running a hand through his hair, “I know what I’m asking here is a lot. You have a good life here, Harley. A stable life. And maybe I don’t know you as well as I think I do but… I think you’re a lot like me, and for me? A stable life just didn’t cut it. I knew I was capable of so much more, of making a difference in this world.”

Harley looked up at him, an inscrutable expression on his face.

“And hey, if I’m wrong, you’ve got a great thing going here, you really do. You should be proud. But if I’m right… there’s a whole world waiting for you out there. It might be covered in Mabari shit and demon ichor about fifty percent of the time, but honestly it’s still pretty great. It’s up to you. We’re at the inn down the road if you decide to join us.”

He stood and clapped Harley on the shoulder twice, squeezing him a bit on the second one, and then walked out into the night.

Two hours later, there was a knock at his door.

Tony grinned at Peter, who had been sitting on his floor sketching in his notebook and who now looked suitably confused. He nodded for him to answer it so Peter clambered up and slowly opened the door to see Harley, still wearing his blacksmith apron and covered in soot, leaning against the wall like he owned the place.

“Well hey there darling,” Harley drawled, eyeing up Peter like he was a nice steaming piece of pie. “If you’d’ve told me you had a gorgeous elf in your group I probably would’ve joined without all this fuss.”

Peter blushed red as a tomato and stared at his shoes.

“Ok, relax,” Tony said, getting out of his seat to pull Peter closer to him by the elbow and glaring at Harley, who just grinned back. “And just so you know, this gorgeous elf could take your eye out in about 1 second flat with an arrow you’d never even see coming, so I’d suggest you keep it in your pants.”

That didn’t seem to help Peter’s situation at all and he blushed even harder, but Harley’s expression shifted from slightly lecherous to impressed.

“Don’t worry, sweet cheeks, I’m just teasing. I bet we could do some serious damage with your arrows and my traps, though! Ever set off the switch on a mine with one before?”

Peter glanced up at that and Tony could see the wheels turning in his head already.

“No, but… hm… poison mine?”

“Could be.”

“Throw down a pitch grenade first-“

“-And then they’re stuck in the miasma that we triggered without them even seeing it!”

Tony watched them, smiling softly. In a lifetime of terrible decisions, every so often a good one snuck through.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Harley was smart. It took him all of a week to notice how Tony couldn’t stop staring at Peter, how he was somehow always there to help him to his feet or refill his water or adjust his tunic. After one particularly long day that involved bandits, spiders, and an incredibly nasty clutch of dragonlings, Peter had fallen asleep on Tony’s shoulder as they waited for Thor and Banner to finish off some stragglers. Tony couldn’t keep the fond smile off his face as he gently brushed a lock of hair off Peter’s forehead, tucking it behind one of his ears. Peter huffed and nuzzled closer.

“So,” Harley said, quietly enough not to wake Peter but loud enough for Tony to hear, “you and the elf, hm?”

“Me and the elf what?” Tony hissed back, narrowing his eyes. It was supposed to be menacing but of course Harley just laughed at him, shrugged, and then absently fiddled with some springs on his crossbow.

“’S cute, that’s all.”

“There’s nothing cute going on here.”

“Oh, so he’s available then? Great, because I-“

“He’s not available!” Tony sort of shouted it, which startled Peter awake.

“Hm? Tony? ‘S everything ok?” He blinked up at him with bleary eyes.

“Shh, no, sorry swee—Peter, sorry, Harley was just being an annoyance as usual. Go back to sleep.”

Peter giggled softly and stuck his tongue out at Harley who returned the gesture, and then he curled back up against Tony’s side with a happy little sigh.

Harley raised his eyebrows and mouthed a long “ok” before going back to his crossbow.

He tried to focus on the supply list he had been working on earlier, but Tony soon abandoned it as Peter started snoring softly into the crook of his neck. He had been working so hard at pretending like he was just looking out for him, like he was just a decent human being with no ulterior motives, but every day it was getting harder and harder to deny his true feelings for the elf. Peter deserved so much more than an aging, emotionally constipated Grey Warden but Maker every time he looked at him… Tony swallowed thickly. This had to stop. He inched out from under Peter and deposited him gently on the bedroll beside him before heading off towards the edge of the woods to clear his head.

“I really meant that, you know?” Harley called after him. Tony stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn. “It’s cute. He’s good for you. Don’t be such a stubborn, blighted idiot about it.”

Tony frowned, sighed, and then disappeared into the thick forest without a word.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was months before they reached a town again. Hamsal was filthy and smelled like fish but there were actual beds and warm food and Tony couldn’t be happier to wash in a proper bath again. No one particularly liked it when Grey Wardens arrived because usually trouble arrived with them, but they always found rooms for them and treated them with respect, even if the respect was colder than Loki’s frost magic.

Tony moaned as he settled himself into his second bath of the evening, the first one drained almost immediately as he was a little disgusted by all the filth that came off him in the water. The heat felt incredible on his aching muscles and even though the tub wasn’t quite big enough and he had to hang his feet over the side, he hadn’t been so relaxed in what felt like years.

A quiet knock on the door roused him.

“Um. Ser? Tony?”

Tony quickly arranged himself to be slightly more… decent, before answering.

“Come in.”

Peter opened the door and his eyes went wide at the sight.

“Oh! I—I’m sorry, ser, I didn’t realize… I can, er, I can come back…”

“Promise I won’t splash you,” Tony said with a lazy smile as he gestured to a chair that was a respectable distance from the tub. Unfortunately Peter tugged it right over next to him before he sat down. Tony had been so good these past few months, kept his distance as much as he could without hurting Peter’s feelings, but over the last week the elf had become much more clingy and it was becoming difficult to avoid him. If he didn’t know better, he would think Peter purposely intruded on him in the tub so he couldn’t escape.

“Sorry, I just… don’t want anyone else to hear,” he said, looking slightly nervous, which made Tony concerned.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Nat’s birthday,” he whispered, eyes lighting up, “and we want to surprise her. Do you know what her favourite ale is?”

Tony breathed a sigh of relief. Of course. The sheer thought that Peter would be up to anything other than something this pure and sweet was ridiculous.

“Do you really think surprising an Antivan Crow is the best course of action, Pete? She’s more liable to stab you than thank you.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Oh. I didn’t think of that. Thor said it was a good idea!”

“Maybe less of a surprise, more of a ‘oh would you look at that, somehow all of your drinks have been paid for during our stay and also here’s a nice warm scarf’?” Tony had never seen Nat wear a scarf before but he couldn’t imagine she’d be opposed to one.

“Right! Of course, ser, that’s a much better plan. Should I knit her one?”

Tony laughed, and Peter’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I just didn’t know you could knit.”

“Aunt May taught me. We had to make a lot of our own clothes, so I’m good with a needle and thread too. Maybe you’d like a fancy red cape to go with your armour?”

There was a cheeky smile pulling at the edge of Peter’s lips and Tony flicked some water in his face.

“Hey, you said you wouldn’t splash me!”  
“You didn’t mention anything about trying to get me to wear drapes into battle.”

Peter giggled and swiped at the water on his cheek before looking down and nibbling at his lip.

“I think you’d look handsome.”

Tony’s stomach did a full flip as Peter looked back up at him through his lashes.

“Hey,” Tony said, reaching over the edge of the tub to tilt Peter’s head up with two wet fingers under his chin, “don’t start getting cute on me. You’ve accosted a naked man in a tub, I can hardly be held responsible for my actions if you keep this up.”

What was he DOING.

Peter was staring at him, cheeks still burning red, and he swallowed thickly. He looked like he was about to pass out and Tony was slightly alarmed but then he tilted his head just enough that Tony’s fingers slipped up to his mouth where he sucked both of them in without hesitation. Tony shuddered at the sensation, hot and wet and slick, and his eyes rolled back into his head when he felt Peter’s tongue lapping in between the thick digits. He hummed and Tony felt the vibration in his cock.

“Peter,” he rasped, and he groaned again at Peter looked up at him as he hollowed his cheeks. Tony raised his other hand out of the water and pushed it into Peter’s mop of brown curls, getting his hair damp as he tugged gently. His thumb had just enough reach to run along the edge of one pointed ear and the whimper Peter made would be embedded in his brain until the day he died.

He slowly pulled his fingers out and Peter chased after them, nipping and kissing until Tony held him in place by his hair.

“Peter,” he said again, his voice still completely wrecked, “I… we can’t—”

“If you say we can’t do this again, I’m going to scream,” Peter said. “I want you. I… I’m in love with you.”

Maker, Tony wished he weren’t naked in a bathtub for this.

“Ok well first of all, don’t scream, because inevitably Rogers would come rushing in here and as proud as I am of my manhood I’ve seen him change and I don’t want to give him any more ammunition against me.”

Peter stared at him for a moment before dissolving into a fit of giggles, which made Tony smile fondly.

“Second… Maker, Pete, I’m so in love with you. I think I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. But… I’m an old man, I’ve got so much baggage I’m surprised my horse hasn’t broken its back already, my Calling could come any day now—”

“Yeah, enough of that,” Peter said, and jumped in the tub with his clothes on. Tony let out a shocked yelp as he landed on his lap, water splashing out and on to the floor. “If all of those things are true, don’t you deserve a little happiness? You’re not allowed to say no, by the way.”

“Kinda defeats the purpose of the question, Pete,” Tony said, his voice cracking slightly. Peter smiled and leaned in to press an almost chaste kiss to his lips, soft and warm and bursting with love.

“Please… ser…” A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and Tony chuckled.

“Forget the Calling, you’re going to be the death of me way before then.”

Peter leaned in to kiss him again, more heated and frantic this time, and Tony started struggling to pull off his sopping wet clothes. It wasn’t easy to remove sodden leather from a squirming elf but he eventually managed and groaned as he felt Peter’s soft skin against his own. He also felt Peter’s hard length press into his hip.

“Mmm, what’s this, then?” he said, reaching down to grasp him in a firm grip. Peter moaned and jerked his hips up, the sensation of Tony’s sword-callused fingers on his sensitive flesh almost overwhelming. “So gorgeous, look at you…”

Peter threw his head back and Tony couldn’t resist leaning in to lick at the droplets of water running down his long neck. He was flushed from the heat of the bath and his skin was a lovely shade of pink.

“More,” Peter whined, slender fingers scrabbling at every inch of skin they could reach. Water was sloshing over the side of the tub with every movement and Tony was still cognizant enough to realize they would soon be interrupted by a very irate innkeeper if they didn’t move elsewhere.

“Come on,” he growled, bracing himself with one hand and lifting Peter up with the other. It made the elf squeak and he quickly wrapped his legs around Tony’s waist as he carried him over to the bed. Peter was light as a feather and images of Tony fucking him up against a wall flashed through his brain, but that could come later. Now… now all he wanted to do was to worship him. The bed was much more comfortable and also made it much easier to get his hands and mouth on every inch of Peter’s lithe body. As he sucked another bruising kiss into his collarbone Peter whined and started scratching at his shoulders.

“Please, please Tony I need—need it.”

“Need what, sweet thing?” Tony asked, smirking against Peter’s skin when the elf whimpered underneath him. “Say it for me.”

“Need—need your cock. Need it inside me, Maker, it’s so big, want it want it want it,” Peter gasped out, clawing so hard Tony winced, but he would never dare tell him to stop. If he had to endure scratch marks every day of his life so be it.

“You have to be patient,” Tony said, reaching down to brush one dry fingertip over his hole, “want it to feel good, right?”

Peter nodded furiously but he still tried to bear down on Tony’s finger, uncaring of the lack of lubrication.

“Stay,” Tony ordered gently, and pushed himself up from the bed to fetch the oil he used to care for his saddle. When he returned Peter wrinkled his nose at the flask.

“Seriously?”

“Sorry _mein bluomo_ , I don’t have anything else,” Tony said. “I promise, in the next town I’ll buy you the fanciest, loveliest smelling oils they have.”

“S’alright,” he said, flushing a little deeper on his cheeks, “it’s… kind of hot.”

Tony chuckled as he poured some of the oil on to his fingers.

“Yeah? Want me to take care of you like I take care of all my finest things?”

Peter whimpered out a ‘yes’ as Tony breached his tight hole with one finger, pushing it slowly but relentlessly inside.

“Have you done this before?”

Peter shook his head and bit his lip hard as Tony crooked the finger inside him.

“I—just my own fingers, but—but it didn’t feel this good, oh Maker!” He grabbed at the sheets as Tony pushed another finger inside and he could feel Peter clenching around him. He was incredibly warm and tight and Tony felt his cock twitch as he thought of being inside him. Peter opened for him beautifully, like he was made for it, and soon Tony’s fingers were sliding in and out smoothly. Peter was almost riding his hand, his hips undulating on the bed, his face bright red as he took his pleasure.

“So beautiful,” Tony whispered, kissing his chest and sucking on one peaked nipple.

“Won’t last,” Peter croaked, “please hurry, want—want to come with you inside me.”

“That can certainly be arranged,” Tony said, his voice so low it was near a growl, and he slid his fingers out to lube up his cock. Peter was spread out like a feast under him, long legs wide and bent, chest heaving. Tony wished he could keep him here forever. Screw the blighted darkspawn, damn any sense of duty or responsibility… all he ever wanted was right here. He bent down to kiss him, gentle and intense all at once, overwhelmed with emotion.

“Love you,” he murmured against his lips, “Maker, I love you.”

He pushed inside him. The resistance was minimal and he bottomed out after only a few gentle strokes. Peter’s legs came up to wrap around his waist, holding him there, and Tony shuddered as Peter clenched around him.

“Feels so good,” he gasped, his hips jerking up as if he was trying to get Tony even deeper inside him. “Please, oh, please, move!”

Tony groaned into his neck and started grinding his hips down, not snapping them yet, just pushing in and out slowly. Peter was already shaking from the sensation and Tony could feel his cock pressing hot and hard against his stomach.

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” he whispered, and Peter immediately obeyed.

“S-so close, Tony, please, don’t stop!”

Peter’s slender fingers flew over his cock. It was pretty, just like the rest of him, and Tony couldn’t wait to taste it. For now he settled for dribbling some more oil over Peter’s hand to ease the way which made the elf gasp at the new, slick sensation. He could tell he was close, his back arching up off the bed and his muscles tensing, but for some reason he suddenly stopped, grabbing at Tony’s biceps and urging him closer for another heated kiss.

“Want to feel you,” he panted against his lips, “want to feel you come. Please.”

“You sure?” Tony was trembling with the effort of holding back, and when Peter nodded he groaned and immediately snapped his hips forward, jostling the elf up the bed. Peter yelped but before Tony could even ask if he was ok he was being pulled in closer by two small but strong hands on his hips.

“Jus’ like that,” Peter slurred, his head dropping back against the pillow as Tony thrust into him. The oil had completely ruined the sheets and was dripping between them, making everything slippery and warm as their bodies rubbed together. Tony was sliding in and out of him with barely any resistance and Maker he was so tight, so hot inside… he wasn’t going to last.

“Close,” he managed to grit out before reached around to the small of Peter’s back with one hand, angling him up so he could fuck up into him even faster.

“Tonyyyy,” Peter whined, and Tony could feel his heels kicking against his broad back, “don’t stop don’t stop don’t st-- oh Maker that’s so good, you’re so big, so full, wanna feel you come inside me, oh p-please!”

Peter’s words stuttered out with every hard thrust, making him sound so sweet and desperate, but the high-pitched whimper that escaped his mouth after he couldn’t even catch his breath to speak was what sent Tony over the edge. He bucked his hips up one last time and choked out a gasp as he came, filling him up so much he could feel it leaking out and dripping down his thighs. Peter squirmed under him and the sensation made Tony shudder as he collapsed on his elbows, trying his best not to crush the poor elf.

“Gimme… just one second…” he said, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“S’okay,” Peter said softly, reaching up to kiss and mouth at his earlobe, “when I felt you come I… kinda did too.”

There was no way he could go again but that definitely made Tony’s cock twitch where it was slowly softening inside Peter. He glanced down to see their stomachs covered in milky white, and then up to Peter’s pink, slightly anxious looking face.

“Maker, you’re amazing,” Tony said, and the expression quickly changed to relief, although he was still flushed all over.

“Couldn’t help it,” Peter said, biting his lip which Tony then leaned down to take between his own teeth. They kissed lazily until Tony finally slipped out of him and Peter whined at the loss. Tony reached down to gently push two fingers back inside him and after only a few minutes of slow, insistent fingering and some nibbling on the tip of his sensitive ear he managed to wring one more orgasm out of the exhausted elf.

“That’s it,” he whispered, kissing along Peter’s neck as he shivered through it, “that’s my boy.”

“Yours,” Peter sighed with a smile, beaming up at him through sweaty curls.

Tony kissed him until his lips were numb, and then kissed him some more, and then chose to ignore the rest of the world for just a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> ara ma'athlan vhenas (Elvish) - I will call you home  
> Falon’Din enasal enaste (Elvish) - an elven prayer for the dead  
> mein bluomo ("Nevarran"/Old German) - my flower


End file.
